Knight of the Dead
by PetrousFic
Summary: Ash Ketchum is the squire to a knight, earning money to support his dirt-poor family. One night, anger gets the better of him, and he challenges his master's title. He wins, and learns what his master really did for a living. AU, characters OOC. M for mature themes and lemons.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1:_

My breath dragged through my throat. My muscles burned, and the pack of Aaron's supplies didn't make it any easier. Pardon me. _Sir _Aaron. I was his squire. No. Never mind. Squire implies I am learning how to be a knight. Or, you know, anything besides a pack horse. I only do this because any treasure I "apprehend" goes to my family... After Aaron- _Sir _Aaron- gets first call. So far, from the two letters I have received, my sister is betrothed to a Prince, my Father is still missing, and my Mother is now a cook. We have also, at least in my home country, become advisors to a King, the father of my sister's betrothed. My Mother once told me I could come home whenever I wanted. And then she went off on a tangent for the rest of the letter, describing all of the benefits of me being a squire. Thanks Mom. Real subtle.

"We are almost there! Just a little farther boy!" Aaron called down to me. He was wearing comfortable light combat gear, and chain mail with just a chestplate. Total weight? Maybe forty pounds. My pack contained; pots and pans, blankets, two swords, a banner, the rest of Aaron's armor, forty gold coins, some meditative incenses, some Aura tokens (he said that, but I knew they were just rocks that were vaguely circular), and our provisions of water, cheese, and meat. Total weight? I hardly even noticed, because I carried so much of it all of the time. I wasn't, at least in my opinion, very good looking. My mother disagreed, but that was because she was my mother. The only other vague fascination anyone had ever had in me was Aaron, and that was for a packhorse. I was tall for my age, which was about sixteen (my family used to be so poor we couldn't even afford birthdays of any significance. I was eighty percent certain I was sixteen... With a two year cushion on either side. We finally climbed to the top of the mountain, and rested. Aaron lay on his back, panting heavily. I barely restrained my indignant questions as to why _he _was panting. I huffed, breath smoking in the fresh, cold mountain air. Aaron snapped his fingers.

"Water." I dredged the water up from the depths of the pack, and restrained myself from dumping the entire waterskin on his head. He guzzled it all down, then thrust the skin back at me. "Find more." That was the last two or three years. No please. No thank you. Ever. Period. I nodded obediently and grabbed the skin. I trudged into the woods, looking for some water. I came across a stream, and followed it upriver. At the stream's start, I collected water from the small pond. I walked back to the small ledge, and Aaron snapped his fingers again. "Water." I gritted my teeth, and handed him the skin. He drained half of the skin... Again. He let out his breath, content with the water I had provided him. And after his little water break, we continued trudging on. I was not excited, because every hill or mountain we climb, we eventually have to go down. And climbing down was twice as hard as climbing up. As we trekked through the woods, many pairs of eyes watched us. I didn't have any pokémon, save a Pikachu, which I had left to protect my family. The eyes blinked and moved, in an almost hypnotic way. Aaron stumbled a few times, and I had to bite my tongue from laughing. As we went, small purple flames appeared in the distance. We followed them on our march, until, I noticed, they were slightly more to the right. Aaron adjusted his course to follow the flames, but I spoke up.

"Sir." He spoke without stopping.

"Yes boy?" I held my tongue, and refrained from telling him all the choice words for him (few broke four letters).

"If I may, Sir." I said, careful not to "insult" him. "Those flames are leading us in the wrong direction." He stopped short, mid stride.

"Do not tell me where to go, boy!" With that, he spun, hand extended to slap me. Against my better judgement, I reflexively blocked the intended blow. He growled, and tried to strike me again. This time the blow landed. Then, we continued on our way, with Aaron ignoring the lights. I smiled internally, seeing as he knew I was right. He never allowed me to tell him what to do, even if I was right. Finally, the ground sloped downwards. We came upon a town at the end of the day, as the sun set. We checked in to the local tavern, scoring the last room. I would sleep either on the floor, or outside. We walked into the area of the building where drinks were served. There was only one waitress. She had orange hair, with a short-cut side ponytail. She was ducking and dodging, balancing trays, pots, plates and bowls. The men were probably drunk, they were laughing so hard. A few had begun chasing her, or trying to touch her to make her falter. Aaron sat at the bar, ordering a mug of rum. I, as his "squire," was expected to sit quietly by the door, with three other squires. They were pitiful sacks of skin and bone. I, with a lack of any mirrors, assumed that I looked like that too. I sat down in an empty stool, leaning my head against the wall, drifting off to sleep. A mighty crash resonated, followed by torrential laughter. I opened my eyes. The poor girl was sprawled across the floor, dishes scattered around. And Aaron, foot stuck out, chuckling along with everyone else, was sitting at the bar, third mug of rum in hand. I got up, and helped assemble the dishes. She looked up, and clenched her fists.

"I dont need your help." She hissed. I handed her the dishes, and noticed the laughter had died down. I looked up at Aaron, who was looking at me with pure disgust.

"Boy, she is the serving maid. It's her job to clean and take care of dishes." Something about the way he was so careless set me off. All of the anger and resentment I had ever felt towards him raged to the surface, bypassing the years of uncomfortable patience.

"Even so, _Sir,_" I spat. "No one deserves to be led on like that. Or like me." Aaron's eyes were ablaze, and he stood up. For the first time, I realized he was only about an inch taller than me. His breath stank of rum.

"What did you just say, boy?" He tried to sound threatening, but he was slurring so badly I barely understood.

"Well _Sir_" I spat again. "You told me I was to be a squire. All I ended up as is your packhorse." Without warning, Aaron drew his fist back, but he was so drunk I almost yawned as he sent it towards my face. I caught his hand in the palm of mine, and was surprised by how little force was behind the punch. Aaron tried to wrench himself from my non-existent grasp, and ended up simply flailing like an idiot. The men all around us laughed, but the barmaid girl I had helped was nowhere to be seen. Aaron tried to punch me again, but I caught that too. He stumbled back drunkenly. Everyone was laughing and chanting "Fight" over and over. Aaron downed the rest of his rum, and ran towards me, swaying dangerously. He practically fell forward, but this time I dodged out of the way. As he over-extended his arm, I pushed on the back of his head, smashing it against the table. He tried to stand up, but I slammed his head against the table again. Five years of abuse. Five years of slavery. I released all of that anger in this one fight. I grabbed Aaron's shoulder and pulled him up from the table. Blood ran from his nose, and already left eyes was swollen. I punched him in the eyes, and he lurched back. He slurred something at me, then drew his sword. He swung in a wide arc downwards. I remembered a technique Aaron had refused to learn from a man in Johto. As the sword arced downward, I swung my arms up, and caught the flat of the blade between the palms of my hands. I threw the sword to the left, again surprised at the lack of ability Aaron possessed. I kicked him in the exposed right side, sending him crashing against the bar. The men all around us cheered, and Aaron didn't get up. I walked over to him, and crouched. Suddenly, I had a thought. Technically, all of his gear belonged to me now. I could take it, because I had defeated him in open combat. I unclipped the gear, and noticed that the sword was ridiculously light. I strapped the gear on to myself, and the men turned and carried on. I hauled Aaron's unconscious body to the room he had rented, and stripped off the rest of the gear. I had also grabbed my pack, and had decided to wear everything I possibly could to distribute the weight a little more. I had never realized just how much Aaron actually carried. I found a great sword, which was broad an long. I found two daggers, which I strapped to the small of my back, and eight throwing knives. I strapped three of them in each side of my waist, and the last two on my off-hand. The helmet, I noticed, was actually a facade. In it was a mask, and a hood. The mask was gaunt and silver coloured, while the hood was black as the midnight sky. I put that on as well, and then noticed a small necklace around Aaron's neck. I carefully undid it, and found a parchment attached to it. I unfolded the paper, and read the letter printed on it. It was short, with three faces at the bottom.

_Dear Merchant Aaron,_

_My our next targets should be easy, but focus on training your squire on the way. We may need him. These are your targets;_

Below the short note were three labeled faces. One belonged to the pretty barmaid I had helped, which was labeled _Misty Waterflower of the Hikari dynasty._ I folded the paper again, and rubbed my temples. Aaron wasn't a knight. He sold women on a black market. I shook my head. And I had just inherited that mantle. I looked at the mask, and it shone in response. When Aaron's employer found he had been defeated, he would go after the girls himself. To sell them. Like a thirteen year old boy from a poor family. I clenched my fists. No. I would save them. I would get there first. I would save them, like a real knight. I noticed the small print at the bottom of the page.

_Don't forget the Wraiths. _I filed the paper away in the pack. I looked at the mask. It must have inspired so much fear… I donned it. Now, that mask would cause fear in the ones who wore it. I glanced at Aaron's unconscious form. That man- no, that monster- might have been selling women for money, but his heir... I grabbed the pack containing the gear I wasn't wearing, and stepped out into the biting chill of the night. I heard a whiny from down the cobbled road, and walked that way. I needed directions… And a horse.

~lnoOonl~

**Hey guys. Petrous here. This is the last (I promise) FanFiction I will post until I finish Nightmare Tournament, or Mythril. Why not Silver Guardians? Because I will replace that with a sequel! YES! That is going AT LEAST three books (which I have vaugely planned out [remember Natalia!]). So yeah. This is Petrous signing out.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2:_

I tugged on the reins of the Rapidash. It tossed its head futilely , but my grip was like iron. Its coat was a glossy black, and the flaming mane was a blue shade instead of orange. I had bought the mare for free, because the stable master believed it was bad luck. I wrenched the lead, and it dragged its hooves through the dirt. I turned on it and pointed at it.

"Stop! We are going to help someone!"

_Maybe I would believe you if you weren't wearing the murder-mask! _A voice said. I tensed up.

"Who said that?" I said, turning slowly. The Rapidash whinnied.

_I did, dumbass! _I looked at it and laughed. I was insane!

"Your mom's a dumbass!" The Rapidash was taken aback.

_Since when did I even mention my mother?_ I grinned.

"You didn't. I did. Try to keep up, dumbass!" Rapidash looked at me.

_Is this gonna be, like, a thing with you? _I clicked my tongue.

"You betcha, dumbass!" The horse hung its head.

_Arceus no... What have I done!?_ I patted its flank.

"It's all good, dumbass!" It whinnied. I came upon a shack in the woods. When I say shack, I mean large, but unkempt house. I heard shouting inside. The window had spaces where sticks and wood chips were stuffed in vain attempts to insulate. "Wait here, dumbass! I am trusting you, and so I won't tie you up. But trust me, I will find you if you run. I will buy you something if you stay." Rapidash thought of its options, then nodded. I slung the lead in a high rock crevice. What I didn't tell the horse was that if it tried to run, then the rein would wedge itself farther in the rock. I walked up the the door and knocked on the threshold. I doubted the door would've lasted if the wind blew. The argument cresendoed, and then fell silent. A pretty blonde woman, perhaps a little older than me opened the door with an Arceus-awful screech. She had a small pink flower in her hair, and had tear streaks on her face, but was trying to smile. She saw my mask, and her smile wavered.

"Are you Aaron?" I nodded, and heard a small pebble fall behind me. It was probably Rapidash, so I ignored it. The blonde woman stepped back. I walked into the house. I saw the attractive red haired barmaid with her arms tied behind her back, and her ankles together. She was also gagged, but her eyes burned with the ultimate hatred. I almost considered abandoning my self-proclaimed quest. Almost.

"Excuse me, Sir Aaron." Said a meek voice. I turned and saw a deep blue haired girl standing with whom I assumed were her sisters. "May we have our money now? Please, sir, we are so so poor." I chuckled softly. They looked at each other. I looked at the ground, spreading my cloak and putting my hands on my hips. I also revealed the two daggers strapped to the small of my back.

"You disgust me." I managed to say at last. They looked at each other.

"E-excuse me?" I looked at them in the eyes, one at a time.

"Did I stu-stu-stu-stutter?" They shook their heads. I pointed at each and every one of them. "I am gonna let you pretty young ladies on a little secret." I motioned them forward, and they leaned forward. I bent at the waist slightly, bringing myself to eye-level. "I'm not Aaron." They looked at each other, confused. The blonde one looked at me.

"But you told me-". I laughed coldly.

"I lied! Now, Misty and I need to leave." They opened their mouths, but I held up my hand, throwing knives attached to my gauntlet. "Sell something else. And, tip, try not to sell it into a life of being a sex-slave!" I heard Misty grunt, and her sisters looked distressed.

"She was going to be sold as a sex-slave?" They asked. I walked over the pretty orange-haired girl and knelt down. She looked at me with indescribable rage, but a kernel of thanks. I snapped the ropes. They were incredibly poor quality, just like everything else in the house. I stood and walked back to the door. Whether or not Misty came with me was up to her, but me acting like she had no choice influenced her thinking.

_~|noOon|~_

I walked out of the house and heard a defiant marching behind me. At the rock fork where I had left Rapidash, I saw the lead wedged down into the rock. The horse's eyes contained fury.

_Hey! You tricked me! _I laughed.

"Of course, dumbass!" The horse wrenched on the lead, but I grabbed it just as it slipped free. I held the defiant horse in place, and held my hand out. Misty looked at me, dubious.

"What do you want?" I flicked my wrist.

"Climb on, princess!" She sneered.

"Princess? Have you seen my house?" I snorted.

"Yeah, it's Arceus awful. But you didn't know?" She shook her head slowly.

"Know what?" I dropped my hand, chuckling.

"You're descended from Kasumi, first ruler of Kanto? First wife of Aaron the conqueror? That makes you a princess." She laughed haughtily.

"Yah, okay. I can walk as far as you can walk, hot stuff." I raised an eyebrow behind my mask.

"Pardon me?" She blushed.

"No, not like that, idiot! I meant how slick that was with my sisters! You literally lied to the daughters of a royal Discerner." I was dumbfounded. Discerned were supposed to be magic men who could know the difference between truths and lies in seconds. I shrugged the compliment off.

"Whatever. Do you know any girls by the names of Dawn Berlitz, or May Maple?" Misty looked at me like I was insane.

"Maple? Like King Maple of Johto?" I gave her a blank look. Well, behind the mask. She scoffed. "He came to power two years ago. How did you miss that? Unless I am mistaken, he is visiting the royal Pallet family of Kanto. They never disclosed a location-"

"Pallet. They're in Pallet." I walked over to Misty, and picked her up. She gasped and kicked my chin. I didn't relent, and plopped her down on the horse's back. She looked at me, then the horse. Without a word, I turned and grabbed the lead in my hand. I started to lead the defeated horse towards the south-west, and the sun had begun to set by the time the questions started.

"You know, I didn't get a name." Misty said. I grunted.

"My name isn't important. You just need to understand that if you listen to me, no one can hurt you." She thought for a minute, before the inevitable question was asked.

"Why are you doing this?" I halted the horse.

"Because..." I trailed off, response still unformed. I heard Misty shift her weight to get off the horse. I looked back, and as soon as I did, Misty slipped and fell off. I rushed over, and caught her. We leaned, face-to-mask for a second. I was about to right Misty, when she suddenly reached up and grabbed at my mask. I tried to stop her, but my hands were preoccupied supporting her. I had one hand on the small of her back, and on the back of her head. She grabbed the mask, and ripped it off my head. She gasped when she saw my face.

"Wow..." She whispered. I wrenched her to her feet, and ripped my mask from her hand. I replaced it to its place on my face.

"Yeah. Congratulations. Commence the teasing, pointing and scorn. But have some decency, and do it behind my back." I turned, barely restraining a sob. I grabbed the horse's lead and began walking at a brisk pace down the barely-visible path. I heard her crashing through the brush behind me, and let out a shuddering sigh.

_~|noOon|~_

We came upon a rock over-hanging, and I tied the Rapidash up towards the back, on a stalagmite. I grabbed a bundle of sticks from the dry under-brush and pointed at it, dumping it on the ground.

"Light it." The Rapidash whinnied.

_Fine. A thank you and please would be appreciated._ The horse lit the fire, and I set out again in the dark, ignoring Misty, who was trying to get my attention subtlety. When I could no longer see the cave, I pressed my palms against the damp earth. I focussed, calling out to the life around me. The bushes around me bloomed, then bore fruit. The fruit was incredibly ripe, and I scooped it up in the small rucksack, and carted the plentiful bounty back to the cave. Misty was sitting in front of the fire, and Rapidash was laying with his flank to the fire. I dropped the berries on the floor, and pulled out the throwing knives and stabbed eight juicy berries, and hung them on a rope, with the berries dangling in the fire, juices dripping and sizzling. I stared at the berries, and removed them from the fire when the skin crispened and peeled slightly. Misty moaned out loud.

"Those look good." It was a pitiful attempt at breaking the silence, but Rapidash heartily agreed. I handed Misty three, and fed the horse three others. I was left with two. I ate them slowly, with reserve, and silence. Misty glanced over at me, berry juice dribbling down her chin. I realized I had taken off my mask, and quickly turned away. She crawled over. "Why are you so afraid of your own face?" I scoffed, refusing to answer. She crawled in front of me, and I dropped my head. She placed her hand on my cheek and leaned my head up. I felt a beam of moonlight arc across my tanned skin. We looked into each other's eyes, mine brown, hers green. She shook her head. "Have you ever even seen a mirror?" I chuckled. She was incessant, and I wouldn't ignore a direct question.

"Not in five years." She frowned. I answered her question without her even asking it. "You wondered why I was helping you like this?" She nodded. I sighed. "Well... I was the squire to the last owner of this mask. He was supposed to be a knight, and I a squire. He took me from my family, and I carted around his luggage for five years. It wasn't until last night in the tavern that I discovered what we were really doing. Assembling deals with men and women willing to sell their spouses, and children for money." I shuddered and looked away, waiting for the slap that was sure to come. I felt her remove her hand from my face. I barely caught the next question.

"Did you know?" I took a large bite of the roasted berry, and looked at her. I swallowed.

"No." She sighed.

"Then it isn't your fault. But you know what is?" I took another bite.

"No. What?" She bit her lip in a way that made my stomach clench.

"You have some berry on your lip." I turned to look directly at her.

"Really? Where?" She leaned forward slowly, before planting her lips on mine. I felt her tongue brush against my lips, and I opened my mouth slightly. Our tongues swirled slowly, trying to gain dominance, until she pulled away, gasping for breath.

"Got it." She gasped. I smiled.

"Thanks Mist." She blushed and looked down. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, she stood up, and walked over to a long-asleep Rapidash. She leaned against its warm flank, and I stoked the fire. Then, I walked over to Rapidash an sat down next to Misty. Her breathing was easy and regular, meaning she was probably asleep. It always took me a long time to fall asleep, because of the nightmares that haunted me whenever I slept. They were typically of a man, walking away, blood red cloak swirling around him, and my mother, screaming, crying for them to come back. I felt my eyes grow heavy, and stretched my arms and legs out. I yawned, and then dropped my arms. I get them slide down Rapidash's flank, and then my left arm touch Misty's head. I recoiled involuntarily, but felt her shift. I opened my eyes, and saw her turn over in her sleep. She wrapped her arms around my chest, and I didn't have the heart to get her to move them. Instead, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, her head resting against my chest. I leaned my head on top of hers, and heard a small moan escape her lips as she tightened her grip on my torso momentarily. I closed my eyes again, breathing in the faint smell of... Water. Misty smelled like the ocean. Not all the bad smells, all the good smells, like salt, and water. Like the fresh, crisp smell of ocean pulled in-land on the wind. I drifted off into sleep, where not a single nightmare assaulted my mind.

_~|noOon|~_

**Alright guys. I seem to have come down with a cold. Not a super bad one, just enough to leave me enough time to write... A lot. Anyway, I hope you have a happy, heathy day, R&R, and all that. This is Petrous, signing out.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3:_

I woke up in the small cave, morning dew still clinging to everything. I shivered and tried to curl up in a ball, but something bound my left arm. I looked down, and saw Misty. She resting on my chest, breathing in and out evenly. I smiled and brushed her hair out of her face. She sighed in her sleep, and pulled me closer. I rubbed her lower back with my hand, and slowly she awoke. She blinked blearily in the faint light of the morning, dew glittering in her hair. She smiled.

"Hey there." She said. I stood up, refusing to smile. I grabbed my mask without a word, and walked into the woods. This was a problem. I heard her shift. "What's wrong?" She asked. I didn't answer, instead sprinting off into the woods. This wasn't happening. I stopped when I had gone sufficiently far from camp. I jumped and climbed into a tree, and sat. This was bad. I couldn't get involved with Misty, save anything but protector and protected. I sighed and looked off at the rising sun. I saw, in my mind's eye, walking into Pallet, and not being able to reap the rewards of my hard work. My "royal family," and I was to become a figure. A wraith of the night.

_Don't forget the Wraiths. _The words echoed in my mind, from the letter. I needed to be more than a man with a mask. And I couldn't do that if I became involved anymore with Misty. I took my mask off and sighed, running a hand through my unruly black hair. I looked at the silvery mask. It represented everything I hated. People with so much money they could throw it out. Power, hoarded among the few. And now, it would represent everything the people who wore it hated. The poor, fighting for what was right. I donned the mask again, ready to do anything in my power to stop anyone from wearing this mask. I walked back to camp, which was already packed up. Misty had her head down, and had saddled the horse. She sat on its back dejectedly. I sullenly grabbed the reins, retaining my down, distant attitude.

"Let's go.."

_~|noOon|~_

Τhe gates of Pallet reared up on the horizon, and on the open plain the figure rode through seemed to drain towards it. The sun set over the town, and the figure rode towards it incredibly fast. The tattered cloak rippled around it, and the black Rapidash it rode on was drenched a glossy sheen from sweat. They tore through the light smatterings of grasses like a four-legged, eight-foot tall demon. The Rattatas scattered like the mice they were, and the Pidgey's flew like hell was at their avian heels. The sentry, and her partner from Hoenn looked at each other. They called out, and a riding party was sent out to meet the figure. It was an orange-haired girl, no older than seventeen. The rider stopped when she saw the opposite figure riding out to meet her. It was a tall man, with squinty eyes and tan skin.

"Halt and state your business!" He said with authority. The girl's skin was dirty and scratched. Her eyes were alight with fear, and she kept feverishly looking over her shoulder at the approaching darkness.

"Please let me through! He will be here any moment! Please! I need to get away!" The squinty-eyed man's gaze softened.

"Who is coming?" She looked at him, every passing moment spent in the open plain seeming to triple her fear.

"He... He has a mask... Please..." Her voice was fading, becoming quieter and less fearful. "Please..." She careened sideways, and fell onto the grass. Just as the sentry reentered the city, a low, mournful note rang out across the plain. Instantly, he looked back over the plain, and his friends looked confused.

"What was that?" They all asked him. He stood, and looked out at the sparse grassland.

"Whatever it was..." He said. He looked at the sleeping girl, whose mouth moved in her sleep, and her head tossed side to side. "It's coming for her."

_~noOon~_

The warning bells and horns that blasted from the Pallet Keep told me my plan had worked. I saw the torches lit, and parties, heavily guarded, patrol along the walls. Honestly, I hadn't expected my diversion to work that well. I saw the guards light a signal pyre, and apply the signal shell. It reflected the light into a focused cone. I counted the parties, and sighed. I receded into the large patch of grass, and focused on the invisible Aura swirling around me. In my mind's eye, I could see the grass as it is, as it was, and as it desired to be. The same went for the Rattatas in said grass,and everything around us. I felt that current swirl, then commanded it inwards, filling me like a vessel with water. I felt the power grow inside me, and saw the grass slowly wither and die. The circle of death and emptiness around me slowly grew, until it reached the range of the sweeping cones of light. I stopped absorbing the life energies, and heard the bells and horns blast. I focused on the clouds, slowly drifting throught the air, and commanded them lower. I felt the immense amounts of energy pushing at my temples. I focused on one cloud at a time, so as to not over-exert myself. The clouds lowered slowly, forming into a chilling fog. The sentry's pyres shone dully through the fog, outlining shapes. I heard the sentries calling to each other, unsettled greatly by the fog. The tiny pinpricks of light slowly moved farther apart, and I focused on the one that was farthest from the keep. I moved slowly, my mind focused and sharp, the energy I contained pulsing, and the mist darkened further, turning from the grey of day, to the pitch-black of night. I came within the foggy torch light, and saw the three men manning the torch. They were incredibly large, beefy behemoths of men. There was no way I could fight them in open combat, but I could kill them, and boost the legend that would soon spring up. I had no intention of entering the city. That would be unnecessary. I would simply smoke King Maple and his daughter out of their little castle. I stood no chance in the city. But out here, I was something entirely different. I was a spectre. An image. More concept than concrete. Something unnatural. More unsettling, at least, then a boy with a mask.

_~noOon~_

Bartolomeu, Jacques and Simeon walked under the gallow cage, the skeletal foot dangling just above their faces. They occasionally jumped individually, none daring to call out to the other sentries. Without a warning, Bartolomeu, the one in the middle of the three guards, and the one holding the torch, chuckled.

"Look at us guys! We are walking around, on a wild goose-chase, because some little girl said so!" There was no response from Simeon, in front of him, or Jacques, behind him. In fact, Jacques had been very quiet, uncharacteristically so. Bartolomeu stopped, as did Simeon, and they turned around. Jacques was in fact behind them, but he was... Dead. Frozen in an upright position, with the gallowed corpse's hands wrapped around his neck from behind. His face was a contorted mask of horror and eternal pain. Bartolomeu and Simeon swore, and Bartolomeu heard a dull thump on the ground behind him. He turned, and saw Simeon, face down, clutching his face. Bartolomeu sighed, and grabbed his shoulder.

"Geez, Simeon. It's just Jacques playing a prank! I didn't know you were such a pans-" As Bartolomeu turned Simeon over, he saw that his eyes held the same empty, vacant stare as Jacques, but blood seeped through his lips and out his nose. Bartolomeu screamed a very feminine shriek. He turned, screaming incoherent nonsense. "He's over here," and "He got 'em" seemed prevalent among his babbling. He heard a pounding on the earth behind him, and turned. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the pitch-black fog, but the thumping grew louder and more frantic. Suddenly, a dark figure burst from the night, at the edge of the torchlight. He was moving faster than Bartolomeu had ever seen in a man, and leapt a good five more feet, onto Bartolomeu. They were sent tumbling, the figure loosing a series of furious kicks and punches that almost completely incapacitated Bartolomeu before he hit the ground. He looked up at the figure's gaunt, silver face. No. Not face. Mask. His heart stopped, and drew the dagger, wildly stabbing upwards into the cloaked man's torso This seemed to phase him slightly, but ultimately, the masked man placed a hand on the side of Bartolomeu's face, and the last thing the sentry felt was his torch being extinguished, plunging him into darkness, and a pressure in his temples.

_~noOon~_

As day broke over Pallet and the surrounding area, the morning watchman was appalled at the sight he saw. The plain that stretched into woods was drenched with pools of blood and dead bodies. But he saw one, one that was... Different. It was struggling, dragging itself across the plains, towards the gates, clutching its abdomen. The morning watchman called out to another, and the boy was recovered. He was placed on an adjacent cot to another recent addition. A red haired girl, whose steed waited in the royal stables, dark and waiting its real master.

_~noOon~_

I woke up in the middle of the night, and I sat up, my stab wound nothing but a dull ache. I knew they had used Heal Pulse, or something of the nature, and my natural affinity for Aura (one of the only things Aaron had actually taught me) had healed me as well. I sat up, slight moans and groans around me from the crippled and travel-wounded. I looked around in the dull torchlight, looking for my "guard supplies." The stab wound had changed my plans, but other than now being in the city, my idea was generally the same. I grabbed the small, lightly clattering sack of gear, including my darker, less legal gear, and my weapons. I looked at the small archway to the main part of the castle, and there was a guard. Easily disposed of, like my family had once done to me. I looked over at Misty, who was breathing evenly. I looked back at the guard, and smiled. It was a dark, twisted smile. It was... Evil. And I loved it.

_~noOon~_

**Okay, there's another chapter of Knight of the Dead. I will get to why he is called the Knight of the Dead in a few chapters, and you will know why the letter referred to "Wraiths." This is Petrous, signing out.**


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4:_

The Nurse heard a thump, and she looked at the archway. The guard assigned to protect the sick wasn't there. The nurse put down her quill, and walked carefully towards the door.

"Hey..." She said quietly. "Are you still there?" There was no answer, only a figure, dressed in the garb of a Guard. The nurse couldn't see his face, but his voice was dark and deep.

"Yeah, one of these guys just fell off their cot. I had to lift 'em back in." the nurse nodded, and returned to her podium, not noticing that one cot's occupant didn't stir, or that the poor, stabbed guard was not there. The guard walked to the door. "I'ma go get somethin' from the baker. You want anything, beautiful?" He asked at the door. The nurse blushed.

"N-no th-thank you..." She left the sentence unanswered, waiting for a name. The guard paused as well.

"Aaron." He said simply, before disappearing into the night, with a small pack of gear. He didn't return.

_~|noOon|~_

I walked through the abandoned town, having ditched the useless Guard's uniform in the alley behind the Centre. I must have looked incredibly terrifying. I walked towards the Keep at an agonizingly slow pace, so as to keep up pretenses. I spotted a small group of people, about my age, huddled around a small fire, passing around a pipe. I stared at them, and a pair of guards came out of an alley.

"Alright you kids! You know that's illega-" He looked at me, and he stopped speaking. The second guard stepped up next to him, drawing his sword with shaking hands.

"Bob! Bob, it's the Mask!" The first whispered, drawing his own sword as well. I smiled, but the mask showed no emotion. I focused on the moonlight, which contained a fair bit of Aura in and of itself. I absorbed it, feeling the familiar pressure behind my temples. But I allowed much of it to be immediately discharged in a dark miasma around me. The guard's knees were shaking, and one turned and pelted away towards the Keep. I raised my arm, and focused my Aura to creating a black sphere. I launched it at the retreating guard, and he spasmed wildly on the ground, before laying still. The second guard's knees were shaking and knocking together. I slowly walked towards him, noticing the group of teenagers was gone. "S-st-stop r-ri-right th-there!" I continued that slow, deliberate pace towards him. He stumbled backwards, tripping over a stray basket. I took the opportunity of his temporary lack of focus on me, and stole away into the shadows of a nearby alley. My dark cloak melded me flawlessly with the shadows. The guard sprang to his feet, looking around wildly, sword shaking in the slightest breeze. He turned tail, and fled towards the castle. I followed him, occasionally making a dash across moonlight so he could only just catch a glimpse of me. I could almost hear his heartbeat, and I could literally see fear seeping out of his Aura. He ran towards the drawbridge, screaming for other guards the raise it. He clattered and stomped onto it, and it started to raise. At that point, I abandoned all hopes of stealth. I ran from the shadows, cloak billowing behind me, and dark miasma sputtering out as I used the Aura, pouring it into raw speed. I leapt the rapidly expanding gap, and latched onto the edge of the planks. Then, I realized there was no hope in climbing over and sliding down before it slammed closed. So, I opted to drop down, into the algae-infested water. I swam just below the surface, trying not to think of the horrible smell in my nostrils. I popped up above the surface, and absorbed a large amount of Aura from the moonlight. I swam to the very edge of the wall, so that I couldn't be seen by anyone in the keep, unless they leaned way out, or walked. I swam deep into the trench, probing out, reading the Aura of everything around me. I was surprised to see a small, decrepit cave. It was really more of a hole in the algae-covered stone, but I swam towards the hole nonetheless. I wriggled through it, even my Aura-enhanced breath running out by the time I breached the air. It was a small cavern, partially collapsed. There were bones littered around, and the air smelled ancient and reeked of death. I walked up into the chamber, shivering slightly from the water soaked up in my cloak and clothes. I heard a small piece of flint rubbing along the edge of a sword. For reasons I cannot explain, that sound, coupled with that chamber, filled me with the purest, rawest, most primal terror imaginable. I scrambled along the ground, heart beating and breath shallow and uneven. I stood up, trying to gain a mastering of my emotions. I walked towards a small white light far across the chamber. There, at a spectral fire, was a man. But this was no ordinary man. He was translucent and blue-ish white, and wearing a mask just like mine. He was sharpening a sword, which was twisted and gnarled, causing the change in pitch and frequency that filled me with terror. As soon as I reached the edge of the phantasmal light, the terror left me, and the figure looked up, no longer sharpening his sword. His posture changed, and he clipped his sword to his belt.

"Hail, Chosen of Arceus. Are you Ashura Satoshi Ketchum?" I nodded numbly, and the figure stood. He was exactly my height. "Chosen. I am cursed to wander this Plane, until you have vanquished the Evil that resides within it. Now, whether or not I can help you is another story. Your Fate is set in stone, but that doesn't mean I can't change what hasn't happened. The details are Lost to Time, but I can change them. If you let me." With the end of his speech, he reached out his hand, and I grasped it. Only then did I dare to speak.

"What's your name?" He sighed, and moved to my right side like smoke in the wind.

"If I had a name, I have left it in the Sands of Time. If you must, call me Timuerunt Mortem. I can control the Mind. Twist it with Fear. And I loan this power, along with my blade, the you, Chosen of Arceus." He placed a fist over his heart, and disappeared along with his spectral flame. I looked around, taking fresh stock of my surroundings. I noticed a dull, rusted grate, probably leading to a dungeon or low servant's chamber. I walked over the the rusted piece of metal, and ripped it out of the wall. It was pitifully weak, and I stepped into a dark, unlit hallway. I used the last of my Aura to generate a small glowing orb, which hovered over my head. I was in a long, low hallway, and there was a large, decrepit door at the end. I walked slowly through the hallway, drawing my broadsword in both hands. The door was decrepit and fatigued... On this side. I could tell that the door was maintained on the other side, or at least protected enough. I grabbed the ornate knob, and turned it. It turned silently, and I opened it slowly. I was at the bottom of a staircase, which wound around to the left. I walked slowly and cautiously, for I had used up all my accumulated Aura, and was now vulnerable. There was a long hallway, draped with purple cloth. I walked down it, and ended at a vertical chamber, with a single ladder. I climbed it, sheathing my sword, and pushed a heavy stone out of my way. I climbed into a watchtower, and looked around. I could see the entire city, and the sun just peeking over the horizon. I climbed out of the tower, and slowly lowered myself down, grabbing Aura from the fleeing Moon as I went. The pressure built behind my temples, and I stopped on the steepled roof of the castle. I reached into my pouch and produced a small wedge of cheese and a tiny loaf of bread. I ate my scant breakfast, and listened to the noises of the town below. Merchants calling. Pokémon yipping and yapping. Then, as I finished my small breakfast, I heard a trumpet fanfare, and couldn't believe my luck.

"Announcing the appearance of his majesty, King Maple, his daughter, Princess May, Her Exaltedness, Delia Ketchum, and Royal Courters, Lillian Ketchum and Mitchell Kanto!" I crawled up to the peak of the steepled roof, and looked down at the heavily armored convoy that was rolling through the streets from the castle. People fawned as close to the carriage as possible, hoping to catch a stray piece of jewelry or money. I couldn't see any of the "royal passengers," but I could see the amount of guards. Clearly, they had heard the tales of the Mask, who, courtesy of dear departed Bob, I knew had become the customary tale to tell to children to get them to behave. The carriage trundled through town, and the world darkened as I looked at Timuerunt. He looked back, sword held loosely in hand.

"So, we need to protect Mrs. Maple, by taking her with us, and keeping her from other Merchants. Any objections?" Timuerunt sighed.

"Your petty mortal affairs do not affect me, or whether or not you will be chosen as the next Wraiths for the next Chosen. But if this is how you wish to spend your mortality, by all means, I am required to help." I smiled.

"Okay, here is what we do..."

_~|noOon|~_


End file.
